Mac's First Party
by MrTyeDye
Summary: Little Mac learns a valuable lesson about drinking.


It was October 2014, and the release of _Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and 3DS_ had been met with record-breaking sales and critical acclaim. To celebrate their enormous success, the cast decided to throw a party in their own honor- held, of course, at Princess Peach's castle. For most of the fighters, it was a joyous occasion.

But for Little Mac, it was a nerve-wracking nightmare.

Mac had never been invited to a party before- that is, not a _real_ party, with girls and alcohol- so this was a new experience for him. He was only 17, after all, and his boxing career didn't give him much time for socializing.

To make matters worse, he was an outsider: a newcomer to the Smash Bros. ensemble. And unlike new arrivals like Mega Man and Pac Man, he didn't have the fame and clout to make up for it. How was he going to fit in?

Mac shivered as he walked up the pathway to the castle gates- partially out of anticipation, partially out of anxiety, and partially because he decided, against his better judgment, to come to the party in his usual tank top and shorts. The cold air seeped through his tank top, causing his pecs to twitch involuntarily.

With each step towards the front gate, the collective din of the partygoers grew louder and louder, which did nothing to calm Mac's nerves. _It's just a party_ , he thought to himself. _It's just a party._ So why did it feel like a bout with Mr. Sandman?

Upon approaching the gate, he slipped the door knocker into his gloved hand and gave it a couple of raps against the door.

"Coming!" sang a silky soprano voice from just beyond the door. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal Princess Peach, clad in her signature pink Victorian dress.

"Oh, hello there! You must be Little Mac!"

"Um… yeah, that's me," Mac said, cringing a little. True, "Little Mac" had been his nickname ever since he got his start in the WVBA, but he always found it a bit emasculating when girls called him by that name. Especially girls who stood at least half a foot taller than him, as Peach did.

"Well, come on in!" she chirped. "The party's already started!"

Peach draped a delicate arm around him and lead him up the stairs into the main hall, which, to no surprise, was already packed. Still, Mac had expected the atmosphere to be a little more regal and refined. The minimal decoration (limited to a few "Congratulations!" banners adorning the walls), the scuffed, disheveled carpeting, and the fact that nearly everyone was dressed in their street clothes, gave the palace an aura more befitting a frat party than a royal festival. They even had a bar set up on the upper level.

Mac had also expected to see the partygoers tapered off into cliques: the Star Fox crew in one corner, the Mushroom Kingdom residents in another, the Hylian squad off to the side, the Pokémon in the center of the room… you get the idea. But everywhere he looked, he found characters from opposite sides of the universe mingling with one another. Humans and animals, demigods and mortals, and creatures of every shape and size were partying together in perfect harmony. In any other scenario, it would have been a truly heartwarming sight.

Instead, all it did was make Mac more anxious. _Geez, the people here are already such good friends. Where do_ _I_ _come in?...I mean, Peach seemed pretty happy to see me, so I guess I could hang around her. But what kind of loser hangs around the host all night?_

With few other options, Mac wandered around the lower level, looking for a group to mingle with. On a whim, he decided to join Link, who was seated at the bottom of the stairs, chatting with a blue jacket-clad anthro falcon.

 _Ah, right, that must be Falco,_ he thought. _The one who's always busting Fox's chops._

Mac tentatively took a seat next to them. He couldn't help but notice how kempt Link looked; in stark contrast to the discombobulated atmosphere of the party, Link's emerald tunic was smooth, unstained and wrinkle-free, and his tights were still neatly tucked into his Kokiri boots. For such a scrappy fighter, Link was surprisingly tidy.

"Um... hey," muttered Mac.

Neither of them responded.

"Hey!" he repeated, a few decibels louder.

Link's eyes drifted over towards Mac. "Hello."

 _Okay, step one complete._ "I'm Mac!"

"I'm aware," Link said, still not bothering to turn his head. "We've met."

Mac cringed in embarrassment. He _had_ been acquainted (albeit briefly) with the other smashers when they were shooting his introductory trailer. All the same, he and Link didn't really _know_ each other yet, so he wasn't sure how else to start the conversation.

"Well… just wanted to remind you!" said Mac.

"Yeah, thanks," said Link, turning back to Falco. "So, _anyway_ , I'm dowsing for a new heart piece, when all of a sudden…"

Mac awkwardly scooted away from Link, damning his inability to make small talk with every shuffle. _You know what? Maybe I can just sit here on the stairs with my head down. It'll only be a few hours, no one will notice, and when I get back to the gym, I can just tell Doc that I had a good time and leave it at that. The night'll be over before I-_

"Hey, it's-a Mac!" called a familiar Italian voice from upstairs.

Mac sprung to his feet, spun around and looked up to find Mario smiling down at him from the upper level, along with Pac Man and Luigi.

"Get on up here, you little goomba!" Mario called, giving Mac a wave.

"Yeah, come join us!" Pac Man chimed in.

Mac's heart fluttered with pride as he bounded up the stairs to greet the group. Just when things were starting to look bleak, he got a shout out from _Mario_ , of all people. He'd heard stories of Mario conquering kingdoms and traveling all over the galaxy; this guy was no joke.

As soon as he got upstairs, Mario threw a sweaty arm around him and presented him to the rest of the group- consisting of Pac Man, Luigi and Mega Man.

"You guys know-a Mac, don't you?" asked Mario. He was met with a series of nods and affirmative grunts from his friends. "You know, Mac and I… we-a go _way_ back. I refereed his first match!"

Little Mac gasped. _Of course! How could I have forgotten that?!_

"That's right, you did!" Mac exclaimed, beaming with pride. "It was me versus Glass Joe!"

Mario let out a hearty laugh that sent a ripple down his bulbous belly. "As I recall, that one did not last-a very long."

"Hey, Mac!" called a gruff voice from behind. Mac turned around to see the bar tended by Mario's corpulent twin Wario- who, despite his diminutive height, seemed to dwarf Mac with his imposing presence.

"How'd you like to have your first-a drink, eh? Wah ha ha!"

Before Mac could answer, Wario filled up a goblet with some unidentifiable rainbow liquid and shoved it into Mac's glove.

"I call it the Rainbow Road. It's-a gonna get you fucked up, for sure!"

Mac tentatively raised the goblet to his face and gave it a sniff. The pungent aroma of the concoction caused him to flinch, prompting a chuckle from Pac Man.

"Come on, Mac, it's just liquor!" Pac Man said. "It's not gonna bite you!"

Mac looked up from the goblet to find the crew looking at him expectantly. What was he to do? Wario didn't exactly seem like someone you could trust, but he _did_ seem like a guy who knew how to have a good time. Mac was tempted, to be sure.

"Eh, I don't know, guys," said Luigi. "Mac's just a bambino. The Rainbow Road could be too-a strong for him."

Luigi's well-intentioned words inadvertently set a fire in Mac's heart. _Just a bambino, huh? Too strong for me? I'll show HIM!_

He raised the goblet, tilted it back and chugged it down, eliciting a surprised yelp from Luigi. The first thing Mac tasted was a tart blend of tropical fruit flavors- which, unfortunately, did little to mask the harsh, stinging bitterness that followed. Mac winced, clenched his throat and suppressed the urge to cough it back up.

"Well? How is it?" asked Mega Man. "Not too bad, right?"

Mac wiped some rainbow residue off his lips and gave the rest of the group a confident smirk. "It… it's good! Real good!"

He was met with a round of "Woo-hoo!"s and "Go Mac!"s from the crowd. Mario turned to Luigi and gave him a playful chuck on the shoulder.

"See?" said Mario. "Nothing to worry about!"

As the concoction settled into his system, Mac could feel his social anxiety washing away. From that point on, he was the life of the party. He joyously regaled the rest of the group with stories about his toughest bouts in the WVBA, from Bald Bull to Super Macho Man to the legendary Mike Tyson.

"...so I beat Tyson by decison, and then he walks up to me and compliments me on my _finger speed_. To this day, I have no idea what he was talking about."

As he rambled, he asked for frequent refills from Wario, who happily obliged. Although he could hardly swallow his first drink without gagging, each successive drink seemed to go easier and easier on his throat, almost as if his body was adapting to the taste. Eventually, he was grabbing them and swigging them down without even thinking about it, and he lost track of how many he had.

"...and did'ja know I once fought a guy named Pizza Pasta?" he asked in between gulps. "Not even kiddin'. His name was Pizza Pasta. Like, who names their kid Pizza? No offense, Mario."

Mario gave him a peculiar look. "Um... none-a taken?" he said, unsure of what he was supposed to be offended by.

Luigi tried to tell Mac to take it easy and pace himself, but Mac just tuned him out. True, his head was spinning a little and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his balance, but he figured that that was the way you were supposed to feel. Wario _did_ say that the drink would get him "fucked up," and if this was what it felt like, Mac was sure he could take it.

Then, in the middle of his story about the time he got a TKO on Donkey Kong, Mega Man stepped forward, cut him off and pointed to the other side of the upper level.

"Hey, Mac, check it out!" he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. On the other end was an amazonian blonde woman in a body- hugging blue jumpsuit that left very little to the imagination. She was leaning against the wall alone, sipping a martini while staring pensively off into the distance.

After a few seconds of ogling, Mac was able to identify her as the bounty hunter Samus Aran. He was so used to seeing her in her bulky power suit that he almost didn't recognize her.

"Go talk to her, dude!" the Blue Bomber beseeched, giving Mac a nudge in the ribs that nearly knocked him off kilter.

"Yeah, go-a hit her up!" Mario chimed in. "She's alone and you're-a red hot! It's your perfect chance!"

After a round of hooting and hollering from the group, Mac gave in. He _did_ find her very attractive, even if he was too shy to say more than a few words to her when they were shooting his trailer. What was the worst that could happen?

So he walked to the other side of the room- or, at least, he tried. This was his first time trying to walk since he started cavorting with Mario, and he was surprised by how laborious the action had become. Each step seemed to cause his brain to rattle from the impact, and he had to struggle to reorient himself.

It didn't help that once he _did_ reach Samus, he had to crane his neck up just to look her in the eyes. Most of the other smashers were taller than him, but Samus absolutely _towered_ over him. On top of that, her Zero Suit clung so tightly to her body that it might as well have been painted on. Mac had to force himself to maintain eye contact, when all he wanted to do was look down and take in all the curves and contours of her body, from her shapely thighs to her perky chest to her washboard abs to her…

 _Snap out of it, Mac. Keep your eyes on hers. Gotta be smooth. Gotta be a gentleman._

"So… havin' a good time?" he slurred.

"I've had better," she said, giving him a faint smile.

"Glad ta' hear it. See, I've been… I've been thinkin' about you since we shot my trailer."

Samus lost her smile. "You mean the one where I made fun of your height, and you responded by collapsing my kidney?"

"N-no!" cried Mac, taking a step back. "I mean… I mean, yeah, but- like, I didn't _mean_ nothin' by it. I was jus' showin' off my KO Punch. For the fans at home."

"Well, you _could_ have at least warned me," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I… I know," uttered Mac. "An' that's my bad. I'm just hopin' we could be friends after that."

"We'll see," said Samus.

"So how's that Ridley guy? I heard that he was gonna smash with us, but-"

Just as he was getting the conversation back on track, Mac was hit with a splitting headache, causing him to double over in pain. This was followed by a churning feeling in his stomach, and the sensation of hot fluid filling up his esophagus.

"What's wrong?" asked Samus, her formerly half-lidded eyes bursting wide open. "Are you okay?"

"I… I don't know," Mac groaned. He coughed a couple of times in a vain attempt to dislodge whatever was clogging his throat.

"Oh, sweet Miyamoto," she muttered under her breath. "Hold on for _just_ a sec, Mac; I'll be right back."

As Samus dashed off, Mac pushed the incoming vomit to the back of his throat. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait very long. Just a few seconds later, he heard the sound of her heels striking the marble floor beneath them, accompanied by a high pitched _click-click-click_ sound just beside her.

Mac looked up to see her standing next to the black, silhouetted form of Mr. Game & Watch, who had his Oil Panic bucket held just below Mac's chin. Before Mac could even say, "Thank you," the vomit in his system came bursting forth from his throat. He grabbed the lid of the bucket, dunked his head inside and emptied the contents of his stomach into it. After a few agonizing seconds, his system was cleared- and with a _beep-bee-beep_ , the vomit completely vanished from the bucket, replaced with a single black horizontal line at the bottom.

"Thanks, Mr. Game & Watch," Samus said with a sigh. "That was a close one."

Game & Watch responded with a series of beeps and buzzes that sounded vaguely like, "You're welcome." He continued to hold the bucket under Mac, in case he needed to throw up again. Mac just knelt on the floor, reeling from the searing pain in his stomach.

"Am I going to die?" he whimpered.

Samus knelt down and started rubbing his back. "You're not going to _die_ , Mac. You just had a little too much to drink. Happens to the best of us."

"T...thanks, Samus," said Mac. "And thanks to you too, Mr. Game & WaUURRGH-"

An unexpected second wave of vomit came rising up through his esophagus mid-sentence. This one felt even worse than before, searing his throat as he upchucked into the bucket. By the time he finished puking and the contents were absorbed into the bucket, he started getting chills up and down his body.

"I… I think that's all of it," Mac moaned.

"Are you sure?" asked Samus.

"Y...yeah."

Samus turned to Mr. Game & Watch. "I think we're done here, Mr. G. Thanks again."

Game & Watch beeped, gave Mac a pat on the back and started walking away, clicking with every step. After he left, Samus knelt back down and started rubbing Mac's back again.

"So how are you feeling, little guy?" she asked. "Can you walk?"

"I… I dunno," groaned Mac. "I can try."

He planted his foot on the ground and tried to force himself to his feet, only for Samus to stop him midway.

"Mac, no, don't force it!...If you can't walk, that's okay. Here."

She grabbed him, hoisted him up and hefted him onto one of her shoulders. "Just relax," she whispered. "You'll be okay. I gotcha."

Mac obliged, shutting his eyes and drifting off into a nap. As he slept, the ambient sounds of the party grew softer and softer. He could vaguely make out some of the words spoken around him- "Oh, you poor dear!" and, "Wario served him WHAT?!" among them.

He awoke to the sensation of soft, luxurious silk caressing his skin. When he opened his eyes, he found himself reclining on Princess Peach's bed, with his back propped up against the bedpost. Samus was seated at the side of the bed, with a wastepaper basket by her feet.

"W… where am I?" he asked.

"Peach said that you could rest in her room until Doc comes to pick you up," Samus explained. "Speaking of which, I have to call him. Give me your phone."

Mac sighed, dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Passcode is 1-9-8-7," he moaned.

Samus took the phone from him, punched in the code and started scrolling through his contacts.

"Am I in trouble?" asked Mac.

Samus shook her head. "Well, not with Peach, at least," she clarified, eliciting another moan from Mac.

"Mac, listen. I _can't_ guarantee that Doc won't be upset with you, but I need to tell him what happened if I want to get you home safe. Understand?"

Mac just nodded weakly.

"Good," she said, dialing Doc's number and putting the phone to her ear. "Hello?...No, this is Samus Aran...Yeah, I'm having a pretty good time...Listen, Little Mac needs you to pick him up...No, he got sick off of too much drinking...Yeah...Okay...Great...Yeah, I'll be taking care of him in the meantime...No problem!...All right, see you then."

With that, she hung up the phone and set it down on the nightstand by the bed.

"Is he mad?" asked Mac.

Samus smirked at him. "Are you kidding? He started laughing once I told him what happened. He said he knew it was going to happen eventually."

 _That sounds like Doc, all right_ , thought Mac. As relieved as he was that Doc was taking it so well, he couldn't help but feel a little silly. Doc _knew_ that this was going to happen to him? Was he really that predictable?

"He said he'll be here in about twenty minutes to pick you up," said Samus. "Until then, I guess it's just you and me."

She looked at him and gave him a warm, reassuring smile, which sent his heart aflutter. Now that she was sitting down, Mac was finally getting a good look at her face, and what a face it was. Those long, silklike golden locks, those sparkling blue eyes, those pillowy lips... if Mac didn't know any better, he would've guessed that she was a guardian angel sent by Palutena to protect him.

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

"N...not really," Mac moaned. "Head hurts."

Samus grabbed a handkerchief from off the nightstand and started wiping Mac's sweat-drenched brow. "Poor thing," she cooed, in that exact same tone his mother would use when he had the flu. "Just let me know if you feel like throwing up again."

"Mmm-hmm," muttered Mac.

A silence passed between them for the next few minutes, as Mac tossed and turned around in the bed, trying to find a position that would dull his pain. The whole time, Samus just sat there and watched him, with her hands folded in her lap. It was only after he found something sufficiently comfortable- a seated position with his back up against the bedpost- that he found the wherewithal to speak again.

"Sorry, by the way," he uttered.

Samus leaned in closer to him. "About what?"

"Like... punching you for the trailer... and stuff."

She clasped a hand over her mouth, muffling her giggle. "Oh, _that_?" she asked. "Don't worry about it, Mac. I was just giving you a hard time."

"But- but I could've hurt you," said Mac. "Hurt you bad."

She just shook her head, letting her golden bangs swing back and forth. "Mac, you're talking to someone who once took a point blank gravity bomb to the face. It's gonna take more than a punch to the ribs to keep me down."

Mac let out a rough, throaty chuckle, relieved that Samus was taking it so well. "Can't argue with that," he said.

Another silence passed between them. Mac knew there was something he wanted to ask her, but first he had to muster up the courage to do so. It was the most curious thing; he had no problem making a move on her when she was acting cold and aloof, so why was he getting all tongue-tied when she was being affectionate and friendly?

Mac lifted up his wrist and gazed at his watch. About fifteen minutes had passed since Samus made that phone call. If he wanted to ask her that question, he had to do it now- nerves be damned. He shifted his head to the right, forcing himself to look directly into her eyes.

"So does this mean that we can, you know..."

His gaze broke away from hers, and his voice dropped to a timid whisper. "...be friends?"

Beaming, Samus reached over and grasped him by his glove-covered hand, gently guiding it closer to her. "Of course."

In that moment, all of Mac's nausea, pain and fatigue seemed to wash away. It was like a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders, liberating him from the debilitating torpor he thought he'd never see the end of. In spite of everything he'd been through, those two words of reassurance from Samus, coupled with that warm, amiable smile of hers, made the whole night worthwhile.

Sadly, the moment would only last so long before it was interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell echoing throughout the castle halls.

"Oh, that must be Doc!" said Samus. "C'mon, Mac, let's get you home."

She slipped her arms underneath him and lifted him up into a cradle. As she carried him down the stairs, he felt the collective gaze of the other partygoers boring into him, causing his cheeks to flush red. Some of the attendees noticed this, and tried to rectify it with some words of reassurance.

"You'll be all right, Mac."

"You were great today, Mac!"

"Pika pika!"

Once Samus got to the front door, she handed him off to his trainer Doc Louis, who was waiting by the doorway wrapped up in a black, bushy overcoat.

"Thanks for lookin' after him, Samus," he said. "How's he doin', by the way?"

"He's fine," she said, giving Mac's hair a light ruffling. "He just needs a little more rest."

"Glad to hear it. You and the other fellas have yourself a good night!"

Samus smiled, gave the two of them a wave goodbye and walked back inside to rejoin the party. After she shut the door behind her, Doc turned around and hefted his star pupil over to his car, huffing and puffing as he did.

"Hoo wee, Mac baby," he wheezed, wavering from the effort. "Either I'm gettin' old or you're gettin' fat."

Mac let out a light guffaw, lacking the energy needed for a proper laugh.

Once he got to the car, he opened the back door with his free hand and laid Mac down onto the backseat, making sure to buckle his seatbelt for him. As he waited for the car to get moving, Mac idly hoped that Doc would get him back to the training facility without a lecture. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed as soon as they peeled out of the driveway.

"Now, I hope you've learned your lesson, Mac. I know this was your first time drinkin', so I won't be too hard on you, but you've gotta learn to pace yourself and know your limits. If you start to feel lightheaded, that's your body tellin' you that it's time to stop."

 _I knew I should have listened to Luigi_ , thought Mac.

"And even if your buddies keep eggin' you on to go deeper, it's okay to tell 'em no. If they don't respect you for that, they ain't worth your time anyhow. Understand?"

Mac nodded weakly. "T-thanks for looking out for me," he muttered.

"Well, of course. That's what coaches are for, right?"

"I-I guess," said Mac. "But I'm sorry if I... you know... made you worry."

Doc cackled, nearly losing control of the steering wheel before regaining his composure. "Mac, I wasn't worried for a damn second," he said. "If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you can _always_ take a whoopin'."

 _ **THE END**_


End file.
